


Calculated Risks (And How Not to Take Them)

by celeryy



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:51:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeryy/pseuds/celeryy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saul's POV on Walt and Jesse, and their...unusual relationship.</p><p> </p><p>At first, he just makes a joke of it. “Marriage counseling” and such. Because, come on - that's what he does! But then it starts getting weird, and he's not sure if he's allowed to say anything because Walter starts throwing him these warning glances and, well, he knows how to take a hint.</p><p>Maybe it isn't so surprising. The way they stare daggers at each other all the time. Way too much sexual tension. It was bound to break at some point.</p><p>But how the hell did he manage to end up in the middle of it, huh? There's some things you'd just rather not be privy to...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calculated Risks (And How Not to Take Them)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sinloi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinloi/gifts).



> Phew! Clearly, I may have gotten a little carried away with this one...
> 
> I loved the idea of exploring Walt and Jesse's relationship from an outsider's point of view. And I haven't written Saul before - it was a fun challenge to try and portray his unique perspective. I hope I did an adequate job!
> 
> I ended up following the series pretty closely - from Saul's introduction in season 2 all the way to Confessions in season 5B. Slash was requested, so I obliged! Everything else is pretty much canon.
> 
> Oh yeah... I also considered titling this "Things Escalated Quickly"

 

* * *

Saul is surprised when his PI tells him they’re not even distantly related. That, in fact, their only previous association was a _high school chemistry class_ , of all things. Though it would explain why Pinkman, a (technical) adult with minimal reverence towards figures of authority in general, would refer to his older partner as “ _Mr. White_.” Clearly, the association had carried over.  
  
He’s a little shit, that kid.

Full of bravado, like most of the other punks his age. But no battle plan. No idea what to do with himself. It’s probably why he gravitates towards his old teacher. And Walt’s motivation to make it big is pretty inspiring - Saul admires that about him. So it’s no wonder the kid looks up to him.  
He’s sharp enough, Saul’l grant that - compared to some of his usual clientele, anyways. And he can talk business. But smarts aren’t enough. You need to be reliable. And if there’s one thing Pinkman is _not_ , it’s reliable.

Overall, only moderately competent, and way too big a risk. In Saul’s estimation, the kid is not worth the investment.  
  
Walter, though, is something completely different.

Saul doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone _less_ likely to take up a life of crime. A fifty-year-old _high school teacher_? With PhD’s? A wife and two kids at home? It's almost laughable.

But _man_ , the guy knows his chemistry. He's a friggin’ super-genius when it comes to product. _Forty pounds_ of meth in a weekend. Jesus Christ!  
And here he was. He’d been thrown right into Saul’s lap, in need of counsel.

Saul thanks whatever gods he’d managed to please for his good fortune, and makes the decision to capitalize on this prime opportunity. Because Saul knows opportunities when he sees them, and Walter White?...

 _Holy cow_. Now _there’s_ an opportunity.

They're gonna make _millions_.

* * *

...Of course, only if Pinkman doesn’t ruin it for both of them.

Saul doesn’t understand why Walt won’t just drop the kid. Maybe it’s his pragmatism speaking, but anyone should be able to see that he’s gonna bring the whole thing down.

First he went and got himself addicted to heroin after one of his boys died during some turf dispute. Which, really, what was he thinking with that, going into a rival gang’s territory? So sure, you grieve, but then to incapacitate yourself over it? That’s just bad form.

Walt’s a pretty practical guy, Saul figures. He can’t have this screw-up kid dragging him down. Pretty soon he'll have to break ties.

But week after week, the day never comes.

He complains about it to his PI -

"I mean, I'm just thinking economically here..."

"I'm not disagreeing with you," Mike drones.

"It doesn't make any sense! For chrissakes, the kid's a business associate, not his _boyfriend_."

Mike raises an eyebrow at him and makes no comment.

Saul even attempts to spell it out to Walt in clear terms -

"I'm just saying - you've gotta see that Pinkman's a liability."

"Saul, I can assure you, I've got a handle on things."

"Yeah, but I mean, couldn't you just make it easier for yourself? Sooner or later he's gonna screw things up for us."

"Jesse's not an idiot, Saul. I mean- " he ammends after a moment, "he understands how things work. He knows how to keep his head down."

"Sure, but I shouldn't have to tell you that junkies can be unpredictable."

"Jesse is _loyal_ , Saul," says Walt firmly. "And far as I'm concerned, that's the only trait he needs to have."

Saul sighs, reluctantly letting it drop.

Sure enough, not that long after, Pinkman nearly blows their biggest transaction yet. This high-volume dealer Saul managed to hook Walter up with - after a _lot_ of networking on his part, and some extremely shady connections, but he went there because he believed it would be _worth it_ \- isn't going to take to someone who associates with junkies. So that's strike one. But no - by some miracle the guy gives them a second chance. And _then_ , as Walt angrily recounts to him afterwards, the kid is passed out high when they’re supposed to make the handoff, so Walt has to deliver it himself and miss the birth of his daughter.

Anyone would think that’d be the last straw.

And hell - it’s not as though they're close. As though they even _get along_ , most days. Saul looks forward to their regular meetings like he looks forward to couples therapy. It should be an easy break. A no brainer.  
  
Or so _he_ would think.

* * *

Just a few short weeks later, Walt’s frantic call takes him by complete surprise.  
  
“Walter! You’re up early.”

“Saul, there’s a...a problem.”

“Be a little vaguer, why don’t you? What d’you need?”

“Well, it’s not me. Listen, I need you to go to Jesse’s apartment.”

“Why? What’s he done this time?”

“It’s...his...his girlfriend is dead.”

“ _What_? Did he kill her?”

“No! Jesus! It was...I think it was an overdose. A- a heroin overdose.”

“Christ. Well, whadda you want me to do? Buy him lilies and offer my condolences?”

“Saul, she’s in _his_ apartment, and the authorities are going to be paying it a visit.”

“Oh. Well, shit-”

“And his money is there, too. Someone needs to remove the evidence. He _cannot_ be taken into police custody, you understand?”

“Okay, okay, Jesus. I’d rather not go myself, but- “

“Then send someone!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay! I’ll send over a guy.”

“A ‘ _guy_ ’?”

“He’ll get the job done. Trust me. But it’s gonna cost you.”

“Money isn’t an issue.”

“You sure? My guy isn’t cheap.”

“ _I don’t care_. _Do_ it.”

“Alright. Just thought I’d give fair warning. Consider it done.”

“Good. Let me know when the situation is...is, resolved.”

That should’ve been the end of it. His guy works fast and all the evidence is removed. It’s certainly understandable that Walt wouldn’t want his illegal business partner getting investigated. And if it were him, the association would’ve stopped there.

But Walter White, apparently, is not him...  
  
“Saul - he’s gone.”

“What? Where? Who’s gone?”

 “Jesse’s gone. He wasn’t answering my calls, so I stopped by, and his car isn’t at his apartment.”

“What, you mean he’s nowhere to be found? He’s gone walkabout?”

“ _Yes_.”

“So what d’you want me to do?”

“I want you to _find_ him! Send your guy. I would’ve called him myself, but obviously I don’t have his contact information.”

“You couldn’t just wait for him to turn up? Why - you think he’s gonna get himself into trouble?”

“Yes! I don’t know! That could be the least of it. For godsake, I’m concerned about his _well-being_. He’s...he’s... _distraught_. And extremely unstable, at the moment.”

“No duh he’s unstable! He’s a heroin addict with a dead girlfriend. That’s not exactly the dictionary definition of ‘well-adjusted.’”

“Saul, just shut up and find him, would you?!”

“Okay, okay. But it’s on your dime.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Just _do_ it. And call me when you track him down.”

“Alright...You’re sure? Because you know, this kid has been costing you a lot of- “

“Saul! I’m sure!”

 _-Beep-_  
  
Saul calls his guy. Pinkman's red Toyota Tercel is discovered near some ungodly shady crack den, go figure. When Saul hears that not only did Walt insist on personally going in to get him, but he then elected to cover the expenses of putting the kid through rehab, he finally resigns himself to the fact that Pinkman is going to be a permanent fixture in their operation.

 

* * *

It baffles him, to be honest. This...tumultuous partnership of theirs. He's never seen anything like it. One second they’re screaming at each other, the next Walt is bending over backwards to help the kid pull his life together. It’s giving him whiplash.  
  
He can't give it that much thought, though, when there’s a much bigger issue at hand: the business is _stalled._  
  
He's heard nothing, absolutely _nothing_ for weeks. For a while he barely even noticed, because he was up to his neck with the fallout - no pun intended - from the Wayfarer disaster, but at this point he's begun to get worried, because that forty pounds was supposed to be just the beginning.

The issue soon enough comes to light. Should’ve figured the wife and kids were going to be a problem. Such are the hazards of working with a family man.  
He tries to make an appeal, but Walt won't hear it - keeps insisting he has to focus on bringing his _family_ back together. It's like he can't see what a good thing they've got here! They're practically in the big leagues! Saul doesn't want to let this thing slip through his fingers just when the wheels are starting to turn.

He does a little brainstorming. Decides to pay a visit to one Jesse Pinkman.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't honestly surprised at how changed the kid is after drying out in rehab. That harsh wakeup call seems to have sobered him up in more ways than one. He's more subdued now. Still has that angry reckless streak, but now he seems to be _channeling_ it. What's even more surprising, is how downright resourceful he manages to be when his brain isn't fried on meth or heroin. That play he pulled to cheat his parents out of his aunt's old house? _Inspired_.

Saul picks up a potted cactus at the local WalMart, because if he’s gonna go with the pretense of a housewarming visit he at least needs to _sell_ it a little. There’s a nice little fern too but he passes that one over, because in spite of the newly acquired sobriety Saul still doesn’t trust the kid to be able to take care of anything that needs watering more than once a month.

It's this sober, clean-cut version of Jesse that greets him at the door, wearing clothes that actually don't appear to be three sizes too large for his smallish frame. Or covered in rhinestones, (thank god).

And he’s _moping_. Still upset about the dead girlfriend, it would seem. How long has it been now? A few months? Long _enough_ , in any case.  
Nobody has any business being so darn melancholy, in Saul’s opinion. It’s a waste of resources, for one thing. Like, seriously? Sleeping on your living room floor instead of buying fancy new furniture with your piles of hard-won drug money? Now _that’s_ a criminal offense.

Part of him feels sorry for the kid, though. Must be tough not being able to fill the lonely holes in your heart with bundles of cash.

It doesn’t even occur to him to have Jesse cook instead until the kid offers it himself. He shows up at Saul's office and slaps down a bag of the blue stuff, pure as anything. Says he made it without any help.

 _Well_ , Saul thinks, _color me impressed!_ The kid may not be completely useless after all.

And it works out even better for him when the Maestro himself hears about it and jumps back into the game. He goes off on a rant about quality control, and accusing Jesse of stealing his formula. Saul’s a little surprised to see they’re on the outs again, seeing as Walt has always been barking at his partner to “apply himself,” and, well, Saul would say this qualifies. But hey, who is he to complain when he’s got his best client back?

* * *

And then, true to form, Jesse throws a wrench in the plan all over again. Too bad there's no rehab for being a royal pain-in-the-ass.

Saul understands that he’s pissed - really. He would be too if somebody made mincemeat out of _his_ face. But it’s like the kid’s got a death wish - and he’s threatening to bring all of them down with him. Which is just not gonna fly.

So Saul floats the idea - _hesitantly_ , mind you - that just _maybe_...they shouldn’t... _not_ consider taking him up on that death wish of his. The kid is a _threat_ , at this point, and Saul is begging Walt to open his eyes. But Walt, as he probably should’ve expected by this point, doesn’t go for it.  
  
He’s on the verge of freaking out about the whole situation, and possibly making his own executive decision about how to handle it, when suddenly...the dream team is _back_. Just like that. Saul can barely believe it. He'd _seen_ the way Jesse was talking in there. He was practically breathing flames. And, though he wouldn’t hasten to admit it - _he’d_ felt intimidated by Jesse’s deadly-soft rage. But Walt...Walt seems to have some sort of special power over him. Like a snake charmer. Saul doesn’t know what he’d said to the kid to make him change his mind.

 _Those two,_ he marvels, _have the weirdest fucking relationship I’ve ever seen_.

And to be honest, it kind of makes him wonder...

Granted, since it’d just saved all their hides, he’s willing not to examine it too closely.

The only problem with it all...is that Jesse seems to have some sort of strange influence over Walter too. A _bad_ influence. Walt is way too forgiving of Jesse's recklessness, in Saul's opinion. And he goes out of his way to hang onto his younger partner when it's clearly the _least_ practical option.

That altercation with those two other dealers, for example... _What the hell_?

Hearing about the eleven-year-old kid and Jesse's sudden murderous vendetta, only serves to confirm Saul's strong suspicions that Pinkman isn't cut out for the drug world. He's too emotional, plain and simple. And consequently, _unstable_ , as Saul's been trying to point out this whole time. He won't treat business as business; he's got to take it personally. So now, surprise surprise, he's putting them all in a compromising situation.

But Walter White, for all of his genius, is _still_ totally blind or refusing to notice.

"Not _actual_ jail..." he's saying, "I just want him off the streets for a few weeks until he's cooled down."

Saul patiently explains that the chain-gang-picking-trash-off-the-side-of-the-highway thing _is_ , in fact, "actual jail," and that what Walter is suggesting is a profoundly _stupid_ idea.

Still, he reluctantly agrees to try and think of something. He's given up trying to apply common sense with Walt wherever Jesse Pinkman is concerned. But, the very next day, getting the kid arrested for a petty crime is the least of his issues, because _all hell_ has suddenly broken loose.

Saul thinks - no; he  _knows_ \- that there’s got to be something he’s missing here. Walt running those gangbangers over with his car? And _risking_ his place in the operation? Saul would call his protectiveness towards Jesse 'paternal', except, well...'paternal' doesn't really cover it. This is _excessive_.

He's not going to think about it.

* * *

As it turns out, he doesn't have to.

The missing piece presents itself with a clarity he’d never expected, and, quite frankly, would rather not have witnessed in such graphic detail.

Pinkman was in trouble, again. What else was new?... This time, though, he might’ve done himself in for good. People in high-up places were after him. Saul’s own _guy_ had just turned up at his office looking for information, and threatened to leave him in a ditch! What was the world coming to? And all the same, he’d mustered every ounce of professional integrity he had to hide the kid at Danny’s laser tag place. He doesn’t feel entirely at ease bringing Walt over, but he says he needed to talk to Jesse alone. Emphasis on the _alone_.

Saul gives them ten minutes before he goes back to see what’s taking so long. He suddenly wishes he’d taken his time when he turns the corner and sees Walt’s silhouetted figure hunched over the pinball machine, with Jesse bent nearly in half underneath him, laid out on his back with his baggy jeans hiked up to his knees, the game’s blinking colored lights reflecting off his lily-white ass as Walt-

_Holy fucking SHIT!_

Oh Christ, his eyes. He looks away as fast as he can, but he can still see the grisly image as though it's been seared onto his retinas. Saul doesn't know whether he should bust out laughing or head for the hills screaming bloody murder.

This......explains a lot, actually. But, God Almighty, it is not a sight he’s prepared to handle. A miracle that it’s dark in this place.

He momentarily considers just walking out and coming back after a reasonable interval, but decides against it, because time is short and this startling revelation isn’t going to make him any less _dead_ if Mike manages to track down his car.

He clears his throat. _Pointedly_.

“Boys, I hate to interrupt, but we’re sort of on the clock here...”

“Ah!- _Fuck_!”

Walt wrenches back, and Jesse slides off of the pinball machine and lands on his ass with a startled yelp. They both hastily yank their clothes back into place. Jesse scrambles to his feet, wincing, and tries to smooth down his mussed hair, his face flushed bright red.

“Jesus H. Christ, you two! Is it _really_ the best time?” Saul is a consummate professional, but even he can’t keep all of the shock out of his voice. That mental picture is going to be visiting him in his nightmares - he’s sure of it.

“ _What_?” Walt snaps. He’s slightly red in the face as well, though he looks more annoyed about being caught than actually embarrassed. Jesse, meanwhile, looks like he’s trying to melt into the floor.

“I just came back to see if you were done talking. Considering the severity of the situation, it’d be a good idea not to hang around here any longer than completely necessary.”

“Fine. You’re right,” Walt admits gruffly. But before he follows Saul he turns back to Jesse and puts a firm hand on his shoulder.  “You remember what we discussed?” he says cryptically.

Jesse nods, uneasily. The mortification has seeped from his face and now he looks slightly ill.

“Yo...you’re sure it’s the best option?...” he asks in a small voice.

“It’s the _only_ option,” Walt says definitively.

Saul vaguely wishes he knew what the hell they were talking about.

* * *

Now, in his defense - he  _seriously_ hadn’t asked for this. He would have happily lived his whole life blissfully unaware that his two most difficult clients had decided to start fucking like bunnies.

Looking back...he probably should've seen it coming. He can't say he's known all along - not really. He'd _suspected_ , some days, maybe. But it had never been an entirely serious consideration.

He wouldn't have taken either of them for gay. One of them, you know, being _married_ and all, and the kid having a girlfriend. But, heaven knows, unusual circumstances can foster unusual exceptions. He can understand that; he's been to college.

There's also the age gap. _That_ , he'll admit, makes it a little weird. Maybe he's being unfair, because if Jesse were a chick,  _twenty-five years_ wouldn't be remotely unheard of. But still. The past student/teacher thing makes it feel kind of skeevy.

Maybe the fact that they never stop bickering like angry spouses should've been a tip-off. Maybe Walt's weirdly possessive attachment to a kid he has no particular reason to be attached to. Hell, maybe the intensity of the relationship itself should have made it obvious; there's no way two people can give each other the death-glare on such a regular basis without it escalating into some sort of physical spill-off just to relieve the tension.

Either way, it adds a baffling yet logical new dimension to the enigma that is the White-Pinkman partnership.

He doesn't get the time to contemplate this latest, ah,  _development_ between Walt and Jesse any further because, then...the Boetticher thing happens. And after that things start to get fucked up pretty fucking fast.

The kid falls off the wagon. It's a real shame; he'd been doing better than anyone would've expected of him. Saul hears about the drug-fueled raves he's started throwing at his house, and it gives him pause. Because Jesse's reckless, obviously, but there's a method to his madness. He's not _randomly_ chaotic. And furthermore, (barring, that is, certain murderous tendencies towards gangbangers who take advantage of young children), he'd seemed to be on the path of turning over a new leaf these past months. He'd gotten himself a new girlfriend (finally) and had apparently been showing up to NA meetings. So the sudden regression seems out of character.

All in all, Saul's starting to get the vibe that this _thing_ between him and Walt, regardless of sex, isn't entirely healthy.

Now, he doesn't know exactly what went down. He knows that Gale Boetticher was the cook whom Walt had gotten Jesse to replace in Fring's operation. He knows that Fring was probably planning to off Walt and Jesse both, but now they're his only cooks, due to Gale Boetticher recently having taken a _bullet to the fucking head_. He knows the kid - he feels like he knows him pretty damn well by now. And in everything he's come to know about Jesse, _none_ of it adds up to Cold-Blooded Murderer. Walt tells him that when they met he couldn't even load a gun.

But he also knows that Jesse hasn't exactly been himself lately. And in light of recent revelations, well, he may be more susceptible to persuasion than previously believed. And if Walt hadn't wanted to risk doing the dirty work himself...

Granted, there's no way he can actually ask about it. And he has no proof that it wasn't Walt who went to pay Boetticher a visit that day. But all the same, he's got this gut feeling...

One day, Jesse shows up with all his hair buzzed off. It gives him a hard look, one that matches the empty, haunted gaze he’s been sporting lately.

On the other end of things, Walter’s _wife_ has decided lately that she wants to get in on his business, which Saul protested from the get-go as a very _bad_ idea. So that development adds a whole new complication to the proceedings. She’s even more stubborn and difficult to negotiate with than her husband, which is saying something, though Saul grudgingly respects her initiative.

He wonders what she’d think about the fact that her husband is fucking his business partner. Then again, maybe Walt had gone to Jesse after that failed pass at his boss ( _yeah_ , he’d heard about that), in retaliation to the fact that _she’d_ been fucking _her_ boss. (Though, all things about Walt and Jesse considered, he suspects that couldn't be entirely the case.)

 _Christ_. These people.  
  
Saul is beginning to think he’s the only sane person left in the entire criminal underworld.

* * *

In any case. Considering...a number of things...it takes a long-ass time before Saul works up the nerve to directly confront either Walt or Jesse about the latest complication in their already completely convoluted relationship. Normally, Saul has no issues being uncomfortably direct, but this? Well...this is a little outside of his usual experience. (Although, to be fair, _everything_ where Walter White and Jesse Pinkman are concerned is a little outside of his usual experience.)

Saul actually sort of feels by this point, that even if he'd never actually walked in on them, he still eventually might've figured it out on his own. But he definitely _did_ , and, well, good luck erasing _that_ memory from his brain. So he’s stuck with hard proof. Even so, he would've been willing to chalk the _laser tag tryst_ (now _there’s_ a phrase he hopes never to use ever again) up to a disturbing hallucination, except for the fact that...well, it sort of explains _everything_.

See, he has a sort of theory about Walt and Jesse, but he wants to be more certain. And if he’s stuck being aware of the intimate details of their relationship, then he at least wants to know how he can benefit from the information. Saul figures that, _maybe_ if he can understand a little better what makes these two tick, it might grant him a bit more insight into why they do...half of the completely _insane_ things that they do. The decision-making process, if you will. Because at the moment Saul’s life is feeling a tad too volatile for his liking, and he’d appreciate the chance to make some sense out of the two people responsible for making it that way.

Still, he’s not entirely sure what compels him to do it when he stops Jesse from leaving after one of their meetings.

“Hey kid! A word...”

Jesse hangs back, sits back down in front of the desk. He looks tired these days, Saul notes. But at least he’s back on the wagon. Has been for a few weeks, as far as Saul can tell.

“What?” Jesse asks, when Saul hesitates to say anything.

Saul has deliberately chosen to bring this up with Jesse instead of Walt, because dealing with Walt has been...difficult, lately. The situation with Fring is getting a little out of hand. Jesse at least seems to have his head screwed on. (Who knew the day would come?...) That, and the fact that of the two of them, he’ll be a lot easier to read.

But still...it’s gonna be rough.

“So...” Saul takes a huge breath, prepared to steel himself for this conversation.

“About this thing with you and Walt...”

“What thing? What d’you mean?”

“The _thing_. This... _relationship_ , or whatever you’d like to call it.”

Jesse’s eyes widen comically as he takes Saul’s meaning. Then, he looks angry. His jaw ticks.

“Yo, I thought we were _forgetting_ about that,” he says, the words clipped.

“What, is it no longer ongoing?”

That is a possibility, of course. But really, it’s too much to hope for.

Jesse’s eyes shift to the side, telling him everything he needs to know.

“ _What_ the hell...are you _even_ talking about?” he mutters, unconvincingly.

“So it is ongoing?”

“ _Jesus_ , Saul!” Jesse huffs and runs his hands over his face, which doesn’t disguise the blush creeping up to his ears.

“Because, as a concerned party, I gotta tell you...This, uh, _development_ is a little worrying to me.”

“Who asked _you_ to care?” Jesse challenges waspishly.

Saul ignores him, in favor of cutting to the chase.

"I’m not asking for much, alright? Just tell me _why_."

“What d’you mean, ‘ _why_?’”

Saul makes a vague gesture with his hands.

“Just... _Why_??”

" _Why_ do you gotta know so bad? I'm not gonna talk to my lawyer about my sex life. Nobody does that."

"Uh, they do when it's business related.”

Jesse gives a derisive snort.

“Y’know, there’s a good reason it’s generally ill-advised to become... _romantically entangled_ , with a colleague,” Saul points out. “If you’re, ah, screwing around - pardon the expression - I gotta know how it’s gonna affect your professional relationship. Trust me, okay, I would be avoiding this subject like the plague if it wasn't particularly relevant. Though, I gotta tell you, I do feel a modicum of morbid curiosity. So help me."

Jesse glares at him.

"I mean, no offense, but you guys haven’t seemed to be on the best of terms, of late. Or ever...if I’m being honest.”

"Yo, Mr. White looks out for me, alright?" Jesse snaps. "You could give him a little credit." He gives the smallest wince, as though chagrined at his own outburst, and looks away, biting the inside of his cheek.

Saul fixates on a detail he'd previously forgotten.

' _Mr. White_.' That’s right. Jesus Christ.

"Hey, do you call him 'Mr. White' in bed? I bet he loves that."

Jesse's face reddens even more, if that’s possible, and he stands up with an angry growl. Saul figures he's hit the mark, and really does not feel proud of himself for it.

"Kid. Come on. Just…what's it all about? I mean it's not like you owe him anything."

"Why are we talking about this? Can we not talk about this?"

"I'm just trying to get things straight here. What am I missing? Is he really that good?"

" _Wow_! Yeah it's great!" Jesse sneers. "Thanks for asking. Jesus. You wanna know all the raunchy details?"

"Hey, calm down. I'm just trying to make sense of the situation. I mean, if you're getting something out of it who am I to judge? It's just, half the time you two don't even _like_ each other."

"Y'know what I think, Saul? I think it's none of your fucking business."

"Is it like a stress therapy thing? Is that how you get out all your anger, and it's the only way you can work together? Because that would actually make sense."

The kid punches a finger at him.

"Hey, screw you." He kicks his chair back and storms towards the exit.

"Hey - Jesse - just hang on! You're acting like a teenaged girl about this!"

Saul hops around the desk and reaches for Jesse’s elbow just before he gets to the door. Jesse recoils from the touch like it burned him and whips around, eyes blazing.

“Fuck off, Saul!”

Saul puts his hands up.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! Listen, Jesse...” he says, taking care to speak more calmly, “I don’t need the whole story, alright? Just give me something I can work with. Cliff notes version.”

He doesn’t expect it to work, but Jesse hesitates, so he keeps going.

“Hey, you haven’t been able to talk about this with anyone, right? That’s gotta be stressful. How ‘bout I be your _confidante_? Nothing you say leaves this room.”

As he watches, the fiery anger dies from Jesse’s eyes, and now he looks a little lost.

“I mean...” Saul continues, with a little more confidence, “I’m not a shrink, but my undergrad was in social theory and that’s practically the same thing, amIright?...”

Jesse digs into his pockets for his cigarettes and a lighter. He opens the pack, thumbs through the sticks as though he's counting them. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulls one out. Lights it with trembling fingers.

Breathes in and exhales smoke until the tremors subside.

“...Fine,” he mutters, not meeting Saul’s eyes.

“That’s a yes?” Saul tries to hide how relieved he is.

“Whatever,” Jesse mumbles, heading towards the couch.

They sit down. Jesse takes another drag from the cigarette, and Saul waits, because you’ve got to be patient with these things. He lets him smoke for a minute before speaking up.

“Listen, kid...we don’t actually have all day. I’ve got another client in half an hour.”

Jesse gives him a sullen look, but he puts the cigarette down, tapping the ashes into the dish on his set of brass scales.

“So, if you don’t mind...how long has this been going on?”

Jesse shrugs, staring at his knees.

“A while.”

Although he’d just agreed to the conversation, his shoulders are hunched and he’s leaning back as though he’s hoping he’ll sink into the couch cushions.

Saul tries to come up with a temporal reference point. The Wayfarer crash comes to mind, but he doesn’t think bringing that up that would be...tactful.

“Before or after...uh, when you went to rehab?”

Jesse thinks for a moment.

“After...” There’s an awkward pause, before he finishes, “...mostly.”

“ _Mostly_?”

“Only like, once, or twice, before that.”

 _So that early_? Saul thinks, but he doesn’t say it.

“Okay, and...if you could give me one reason,” he prompts. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t very curious as to what Jesse feels this all boils down to.

Jesse doesn’t answer at first.

“Does he pay?” he asks, half-joking.

“ _No_.”

“Okay,” Saul says, and stops himself from adding, _maybe you ought to consider charging_.

Jesse chews on the inside of his lip for another minute, like he’s trying to make up his mind. Or maybe he knows the answer and he’s trying to figure out a way to talk around it. Eloquence was never his strong suit.

"It's just…he makes me…"

"He makes you _what_?"

"Just. He makes me feel good," Jesse mutters finally, cheeks flushing pink.

Now there’s something unexpected.

"He _makes you_ \- ?"

"No, I mean when he's not bein' a dick," he clarifies. Saul can’t imagine when that would be.

"I- Okay.”

He’s a little flabbergasted by that answer. Or maybe not, but he’s surprised to hear Jesse state it so plainly.

“Running with that…Are you _in love_ with him?"

" _No_." Jesse huffs in frustration. "I dunno. It's not like… It's just a _thing_."

"A 'thing'…"

"It's just…nice…to have somebody. That, like…cares. Or whatever."

His voice is gravelly; the way it gets when you’re just barely holding back some kind of strong emotion. Saul hopes to god he doesn’t have to bust out the tissue box, because then he _would_ feel like a shrink.

"What about the nice girl you've been shelling money to, huh? The one with the little boy...? …Andrea! You two really hit it off, right?"

 _Andrea_. Good kid. Saul wonders what she’d think of all this. Then he immediately wishes to whatever powers that she never finds out.

A flicker of pained sadness flashes across Jesse's face at the mention of his sometimes-girlfriend.

"Yeah, well…There's a lot of stuff I can't tell Andrea. I mean, somebody who _knows_ you. Like…knows all the worst parts."

' _Somebody who knows what a worthless piece of shit I am_ ,' is what Saul hears, plain as anything.

Interesting, isn't it? That by this point _Walter White_ is the only person who can give him that sort of affirmation.

He decides to move on.

"Okay, fair enough. So what's _his_ angle?"

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean what is Walt getting out of this arrangement?"

Saul is pretty sure he knows exactly what Walt is getting out of this arrangement: what he gets out of everything else he does. Control. Power. He gets off on it. In this case, literally.

_Jeez Louise. Push away the mental image…_

But Saul wants to know whether Jesse can see it.

"How should I know?" the kid says.

Saul scoffs pointedly. " _Well_."

Jesse shrugs.

"He says he needs me."

"Walt says that?"

"…Yeah. Occasionally."

"And what exactly does he need from you?"

Jesse lets out a short laugh.

"Who knows? Probably to give him a break from his crazy wife."

"So… _relief_. In a word."

"Sure."

"And that's it?"

"Well yeah."

Jesse gets a smug look on his face as something amusing suddenly occurs to him.

"I'm _exciting_. Bein' a hooligan and all."

 _Also the gay thing_ , thinks Saul. But he keeps that remark to himself.

It's an enlightening conversation. Confirming what he'd unfortunately suspected.

The kid has no clue.

* * *

After Fring dies, (i.e., gets half of his _face_ melted off by a pipe bomb), things go from worrying to _deep shit_.  
  
Saul had been trying to deny it for the longest time, but now he’s finally willing to admit it to himself:

Walter White is officially Bad News.

After Fring, and all the business with the poisoned cigarette, there’s something different about him. Like, scary different. He should’ve seen it sooner, but he didn’t, and now he’s almost definitely screwed.

‘ _We’re done when I say we’re done_.’ What the hell was _that_? It was like he’d been visited by the freaking Godfather. His concern increases for Mrs. White and Jesse both, because after that encounter the thought of being in bed with the guy is kind of horrifying.

The man who’d seemed like such a sure bet just a few months ago is now forcibly tightening all their seat-belts on this roller coaster ride to hell. The gods of fortune that had once seemed so benevolent to Saul are now openly mocking him. He needs to get out of this mess before it spirals totally out of control. And _tout_ fucking _suite_.  
  
Jesse, though...He’s still _dewy-eyed_ over the guy. Which is even more disconcerting in light of the aforementioned _poisoned cigarette_ that - until recently - was sitting in the back of the drop phone drawer in his office desk. After hearing about the Cantillo boy being sent to the hospital Saul felt like the thing was a cursed object. He’s glad to be rid of it, except for the part of him that worries what dark purpose Walt is planning to use it for after taking it back.  
  
Walt is a controlling guy. He always has been, really, but in recent weeks his need to totally dominate everything around him has reached slightly ridiculous heights.

And Saul can’t help but notice where most of his attention tends to be centered. - Especially now that Mike has joined the team. Mike, the most rock-like human being Saul has ever encountered; if there’s one man who would be completely immune to Walt’s domineering rampage, it’s Saul’s former PI guy (which, yeah, he’s still a little bitter about, okay?)

Anyways. Saul’s a people-person; he knows a thing or two about possessive behavior. And this _thing_ that Walt has about Jesse? It’s leaning towards _creepy_.  
  
It’s like Walt is pulling a super-intensified version of the classic "chick with daddy issues" play. The chicks with daddy issues are always the best to go for because they're so fucking desperate. Find one with zero self-esteem, and step in as a paternal substitute. Give her praise in small doses - only enough to get her wanting more. Work your way into every aspect of her life so she views you as her sole source of happiness or approval, and she'll be eating out of your hand.

Except the play is on Jesse. He's the chick with daddy issues. Now, go figure that a guy like Walt would be looking for a relationship like that. He’s compensating. Needs the affirmation. It would never work with his wife because…well…Saul's met the woman, okay? So someone younger, more emotional, more impressionable. Awfully pragmatic of him that the chick is also his business partner. Two birds one stone.  
And the poor kid is completely falling for it. Hook, line, and sinker.  
  
Jesse would never suspect it because, well, he's not a chick. Also the kid ain't that perceptive. Not when it comes to this shit.  
  
Despite what he says, Jesse is a romantic if there ever was one, and Saul suspects there is something very much like love that he feels for Walt. But he wouldn’t be so certain that Walt has the same sort of love for Jesse. And in this scenario, there’s only one person who can end up getting hurt. Spoiler alert: it’s not gonna be Walt.

* * *

The situation makes him...uncomfortable. Granted, Saul feels pretty uncomfortable about the entire damn arrangement. But he thinks about it for a while, and he decides to do what he never does: _attempt to intervene_. It’s probably a stupid idea, (it’s definitely a stupid idea). But in any case, he feels like he should at least give it a go, for the kid’s sake. If he’s lucky, he won’t get his head bitten off.  
  
He doesn’t...but it’s still a disaster.  
  
“Listen, Walt, y’know I’ve been thinking...”

“Have you, Saul?” Walt says dryly.

_Off to a good start..._

“Now, I dated a lot of girls in college...I mean, some of ‘em I actually liked, but mostly it was just about conquest, right?”

Walt is staring at him stonily, and Saul figures the only reason he hasn’t interrupted is because he assumes Saul will be going somewhere with this. So he forges ahead.

“Anyways, I had this play. Like, you’ve probably heard about it. It’s popular for a good reason. But basically the main trick is to find a girl with really low self-esteem. Usually some sort of daddy issues...”

“Saul...”

“Ha, not exactly hard, right?... But once you do that, it’s a piece of cake to...”

“Saul.”

Aaaaand...so much for intervention.

“Is this about me, and Jesse?”

“Woah, now wait- “

“Are you insinuating that I’m emotionally manipulating Jesse into staying in a relationship with me?”

Saul tries for a light chuckle to ease the tension, but then he sees the look on Walt's face. Steely, cold eyes belie the calm tone of his voice, and the laugh dies in Saul's throat.

“Wha- No! I mean...not...You’re putting these words into my mouth. I wouldn’t...”

“Saul. I can assure you that whatever is going on between Jesse and myself is fully consensual. And more importantly, it’s none of your damn business.”

“I...hey - I was just sharing a friendly anecdote. Between two fellas!”

“ _Saul_.”

“I- Okay. Point taken.”

“I don’t want to hear about it again.”  
  
He shouldn't have even brought it up.  
  
The next time the two of them come to a meeting together, the kid has a rug-burn mark on the side of his chin.

Walt comes in first and immediately takes the chair on the left, which in itself is a little suspicious. He's usually completely habitual about taking the same seat every time. Jesse follows after him and flops down into the seat on his right, rubbing absently at his chin, which Saul suddenly notices has a raw pink scrape on it. There’s another, lighter one, on the side of his cheek.

Saul’s about to start in on their monthly inventory when Walt interrupts him.

"Wait- uh, did you hear something?" He turns around and looks back towards the office double-doors. Jesse turns too to see what he's looking at.

"Well I sure as hell hope not," says Saul, annoyed. "I told Francesca not to send in- uh- "

He nearly loses his train of thought when he catches sight of the blotchy red and purple _hickey_ on the back of Jesse's neck. It's right at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, just high enough to be visible over the collar of his shirt when he turns his head. _Strategic_ , almost.

"-uh, anyone else. Until after lunch."

Walter notices the stumble and gets a smug look on his face. Saul knew he had a territorial streak in him, but really, this was just totally uncalled for. Jesse still looks confused, and keeps glancing back at the door.

"Oh I thought I heard a knock. My mistake," says Walt breezily. "Now where were we?"

Saul spends the rest of the meeting attempting to keep on task, trying not vividly imagine how the marks on Jesse’s skin came to exist in exactly that configuration.

Serves him right for meddling, he figures.

* * *

A few weeks later, Walt comes to the meeting alone.

Saul does nothing more than glance at the empty chair in question, but Walt says nothing about his partner’s absence. It isn’t until he gets up to leave that he pauses and turns back, saying two words on the matter:

“He’s out.”

_Out._

Saul has no idea what could’ve gone down to make them split, but if the kid is out, so much the better for him. Saul only wishes _he_ could be so lucky.

* * *

The next thing he knows, Mike is out of the picture. It had been an awfully close thing with the cops, but they never nabbed him. (To Hank Schrader's infinite frustration, Saul is sure.) He simply disappears, right into thin air.

And soon after that, every single one of his guys is dead.

Saul thinks back to Walt's succinct words about Jesse, starts to wonder if maybe “ _out_ ” was a euphemism. But he looks into the matter and, what do you know, the kid’s still alive and well. (“ _Well_ ” being rather flexibly defined.)  
  
Saul doesn’t much like the new guy Walt’s brought to replace him. _Todd_. Great manners, but a few fries short of a happy meal. And there’s something unsettling about him, though Saul couldn’t very well put his finger on it. And that fact alone he doesn’t like, because Saul is usually quite adept at placing people. (Though, if Walter White is any indication, maybe he isn’t as good at placing people as he’d always believed.)

Either way, he’s relieved as hell when Walt tells him he’s finally ready to retire.

* * *

For a few blissful months, he is _done_. He’s out clean, he’s got his money, and he’ll never have to associate with the likes of Walter White again.  
  
But then... (And there’s always a ‘but,’ isn’t there? Why would this time be any different?)

 _Pinkman_ is back.

He’s back, and he’s lugging two duffel bags full of pure trouble.

Jesus Christ, the kid is a wreck. Saul tells him so, because at this point he’s concerned about his ability to take care of himself. Saul would’ve hoped the kid’d had enough excitement to last him a lifetime, but the death wish is still going strong, and in the end he has _no choice_ but to call the only man who could ever keep Jesse in line.

Saul hopes beyond hope that that will be the end of it, but of course, it’s only the beginning.

* * *

Schrader is a little late to the party, but _boy_ did he know how to bring the fun. And by ‘fun,’ Saul would mean _hellfire_ and _chaos_. Walt only just manages to put him in check, but that false confession won’t keep him at bay forever, and something else has to be done.

Jesse is completely silent during the drive out into the desert. Saul doesn’t attempt small talk, because he’s still ruffled about that insane Robin Hood stunt that could’ve turned into a total disaster. What the hell had the kid been thinking?

Jesse had always been so easy to read - it‘s the one convenient thing about him, but now as he stares blankly out the window Saul doesn’t have a clue what’s going on inside his head.  
  
Pinkman is the rogue player, and Saul knows Walt is probably grasping at straws so as not to off him. The compromise he came up with is a pretty reasonable one, and Saul only hopes for Jesse’s sake that he’ll be smart enough to recognize it as a lifeline.  
  
What he _doesn’t_ expect is for the kid to call Walt out on the plan. And on every other freaking play he's ever made, for that matter. Years of pent-up anger and frustration come pouring out while Saul stands some ways away by his car - but not nearly far enough - with every attempt at nonchalance. _A fine time_ this _is_ , he thinks sardonically, _for the kid to finally get fed up with being used_.  
  
Jesse accuses Walt of killing Mike. He accuses Walt of planning to kill him. (Not the smartest move.) All he wants is for Walt to _admit it_.

Then there’s silence, and Saul suddenly feels like something awful is going to happen. He looks over to see Walt walking towards Jesse, and stares in riveted suspense. For a second, he wildly thinks that Walt’s going to stab him or something. Then Walt pulls the boy into his arms...and momentarily Saul wonders in alarm if maybe he _did_ stab him. Jesse’s whole body goes rigid and he struggles to pull away, then he sort of starts trembling, his knees buckle and he slumps against Walt's chest like a limp rag-doll.

Soon, though, Saul hears the sound of Jesse sniffling against Walt’s shoulder, and instead of the most confusing assassination ever, he is now watching the creepiest, most violating hug ever witnessed between two people. A descriptive word comes to mind...though it’s usually used to describe strictly sexual situations...and it begins with an ‘R.’

After what seems like _way_ too long, in Saul’s estimation, Walt finally releases Jesse from the hug and takes a step back, still grasping his shoulders. Jesse stands despondent as Walt rubs his arms a few times and leans forward to kiss him on the cheek. He doesn’t move at all until Walt gives him a nudge towards Saul’s car.

Jesse walks on wobbly legs back to the white Cadillac and gets in the passenger seat without a word. Walt follows behind him, and before shutting the door, he holds out his hand as a final farewell gesture. Jesse hesitates before taking it, and when he does he looks up at Walt timidly, as though seeking approval one last time. The handshake lingers for a moment too long, and then it’s over and the door is shut, and Walt is receding into the distance.

* * *

Saul half expects the kid to remain shell-shocked for the rest of the drive back. But by the time they pull into the strip mall he’s barely holding it together. Saul lets him know that this is his last chance to talk to _anyone_ from his old life, ever again, but he insists there’s no one he wants to say goodbye to. Which is kind of a shame, but also kind of a relief.

Jesse’s foot taps rapidly as Saul calls the number on the vacuum repair shop card. He looks like he’s gonna shake apart. Saul feels a little sorry for him. But when he pulls out his weed he has to put his foot down. Naturally, Pinkman ignores him, so when he goes out into the lobby he makes sure to tell Huell to lift it.

As Jesse’s standing there with his new courtesy Hello Kitty cell phone, looking more forlorn than an orphaned puppy left outside during a rainstorm, Saul feels a swell of... _something_. What is it?

Will he miss the kid?....

Not really, truth be told. He’s a pain-in-the-ass.

Still...he’s always been a pretty likable pain-in-the-ass. Saul feels...Not an _affection_ , exactly. But a sort of...fondness, perhaps? He has a soft spot for the kid. Or at least, he feels bad that nothing ever seems to go his way. Still, that’s a pretty unusual thing, for him. But then again, even _Mike_ had seemed to like him. Apparently Jesse just has that effect on people.

 _You take care of yourself, kid_ , he thinks as Jesse’s clammy hand grasps his own in farewell.

_Don’t fuck up your new life by getting attached to the wrong people._

Although, Saul figures that any life Jesse can find without Walter White is going to be a better one.

He wonders whether Jesse will miss Walt, considering everything they’ve been through together.

Then he very quickly decides to put it out of his mind, because the very concept of that strange relationship makes him feel tempted to burn one of those stolen joints.

Walter White and Jesse Pinkman, along with their multitude of issues, are out of his hair forever. Hell, he should be celebrating!

 _Good freaking riddance_.

**Author's Note:**

> I really had to work to justify making Saul a little more *meddling* towards Walt and Jesse's relationship than I think he'd probably be in canon! But I really wanted to add those extra scenes in - especially the one between Jesse and Saul, so I think it was worth it.
> 
> Additionally, Saul's feelings towards Jesse were difficult to get right; it's an interesting mixture of sympathy, contempt, and exasperation. I had to keep reminding myself that Saul doesn't actually like Jesse that much, beyond finding him sort of pitiable. From his perspective, he's an immature troublemaker...
> 
> Also, holy christ, what is present tense. Apologies for any inconsistencies in that regard.
> 
> The *incident* in the laser tag was Sinloi's suggestion - I hope you liked it! :P


End file.
